Bent
by Cissy
Summary: Buffy visits Spike. Mostly light stuff with a bit of cathartic angst


TITLE: Bent  
AUTHOR: Cissy  
RATING: PG   
SPOILERS: post-Wrecked  
PAIRING: B/S  
SUMMARY: Buffy visits Spike. Mainly light with a bit of cathartic angst  
FEEDBACK: Please! cissy@writerspace.com  
ARCHIVE: Ask me first, please  
DISCLAIMERS: Joss owns the characters, Matchbox 20 owns the lyrics, I own 2 cats and a 15 year old car. Do the math.  
  
  
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"Fur?" One scarred eyebrow raised as he shot her a skeptical look.   
  
She hunched her shoulder a bit defensively. "Yeah, brown fur. she said. But its nose was more pink-y. And kind of twitchy..." she trailed off and swallowed. Even to her the demon sounded lame.  
  
A smiled tugged at one corner of his lips before he firmly tugged it back down. It wouldn't do to laugh at her. Yet. "And powerful haunches, you say? Travelled in kind of a springy motion?  
  
"Uh huh." Those gleaming eyes annoyed her, so she turned away, fiddling with the candles on the chest next to her. She trailed a finger along the lip of the tallest one, letting it slip for a second into the pooling wax at its center before yanking her hand back with little gasp and blowing on her fingertip. What had he said about candles and foreplay? SO not going there...  
  
"And did she happen to mention its ears?"  
  
She turned back to face him, picking the drying wax from her finger. "Yeah, she said they longish. And kind of pointy."   
  
He let out a sharp bark of laughter then, a grin splitting his face. "Slayer, you want us to go patrolling because demon girl spotted a sodding rabbit?"  
  
"Look if you don't want to go, just say so. But Anya said it was a demon. And if it IS a bunny, it could be the Monty Python kind. You know, 'nasty, sharp pointy teeth?'" She curved two fingers of one hand and made a "bitey" motion.  
  
"Give me a bleedin' break, Slayer. It's one thing when you come running over to discuss the significance of Red pickin' out Lucky Charms for breakfast every morning, but you're not draggin' me out to beat the bushes for a soddin' bunny!"   
  
She frowned and set her jaw mulishly, crossing her arms over her chest. Okay, the whole "magically delicious" panic had been a little embarassing. "Fine then. I'll go by myself."  
  
When she whirled toward the door, he sprang forward, slipping in front of her and catching his hands around her upper arms, holding her in place. "Hold on now, pet. I didn't say leave." His voice was husky now, a bit seductive. He trailed his fingertips up the backs of her arms to her shoulders and down again. "You don't need excuses. I want to see you too."  
  
The were both silent for a moment, thinking of the dozen reasons she'd found to come to him in the two weeks since.... since. Every day she told herself she'd stay away, and every day she found a reason to seek him out. There'd been no repeats of the wild passion they'd shared in the abandoned house, or even the kiss-and-kick game they'd played before that. Every day followed the same pattern now. Patrolling together, lots of sniping from both of them, a bit flirtatious on his part, a bit annoyed on hers. And it always ended with her walking away from him, alone and a little more unsettled inside.   
  
When she'd first come back he'd been the only one she could stand to be around, the only one who blunted the harsh edges she felt all around her, the only one she felt safe with. Everything had changed with his song. Seeing his desire for her, naked on his face... A year ago it would disgusted her. Now it ... disturbed her. It tugged at her, made her itchy. And it made her mad. She kept her eyes trained on his chest, refusing to look up at him.  
  
"Do you..." she stopped, thought for a moment and tried again. "Do you ever miss..." She sighed and fell silent again.  
  
"Miss what, love?" He slid his hands up her arms again, as if to warm her, encourage her to continue.  
  
She slipped her eyes up to his then back down to his chest, fixed her gaze on the spot where black cotton met taunt pale skin. "I think I miss how it was...how we were... when I first got back. It was easier, somehow. Quieter." She flicked an accusing glance up at him. "And you were nicer."   
  
He chuckled softly. While part of him wanted to do backflips because she hadn't seemed to notice she was standing in his arms, AND she was talking to him about her feelings, he knew she was waiting for an answer.   
  
"Sl... Buffy. We can't go back there, love. You were only half alive and as fragile as a bubble. I watched every word that came out of my mouth, every move I made. I was near paralized, I was so bleedin' afraid you were going to shut down. Or try to find a way to go back..."   
  
A stark, lost expression lit his eyes for a moment and she felt the strangest urge to comfort him before pushing it back down. That way lay dangerous feelings.  
  
He grinned then, a boyish flash of teeth that made her stomach flip. "But you're stronger now, Slayer. Lor, you're strong. Near beat the hell out me that night we-- And you're takin' care of Dawn again, and Red. Every day you get a bit of yourself back. It's only a matter of time now." He bit back the words he didn't dare say--the fear that was beginning to keep him awake days--that when that happened, when she was whole again, she'd no longer need him.  
  
Well he'd known all along she wasn't his to keep. He didn't try to kid himself. When Buffy made it all the way back, he would be relegated to the periphery of her life again. He was prepared for it, but he'd be damned if he wouldn't take everything she'd give him until that day came.   
  
"I know something that'll make you feel better." His voice was held a touch of mischief now, but his eyes were serious.  
  
"Uh huh." She pulled back a step, suspicious of this new tone. "I think I'd better just go patrol..."  
  
As she backed away, his hands slid down her arms until he caught just her fingers in his. "Just hear me out, Slayer. This is something you like. And you're *very* good at it." He moved his body a step closer as she took a corresponding step back. "See how well we move together?"  
  
Her eyes widened as she felt herself come up against the wooden chest behind her. "Don't make me hurt you, Spike."  
  
"You trying to turn me on, Slayer?" He looped his arms over her her shoulders, his hands dangling down her back. Ducking his head, he nuzzled the skin just below her right ear, sending a shiver down her spine. She gasped softly and moved a step closer. He leaned past her to flip a button on the cast-off boom box at the back of the chest. Guitar strains filled the crypt.   
  
"I don't think..."   
  
"There you go, love. Don't think. Besides, you know you want to." He stepped back from her, holding out his hand in an oddly formal way. "Dance with me Slayer?"  
  
Without conscious decision, she moved into his arms, her body swaying with his. They danced as they fought, as they loved, like two halves of a whole, their bodies reading one another without mis-step. She met his eyes, nearly drowning in the depth of feeling she saw there. As the lyrics of the song began to penetrate, she found she couldn't look away.  
  
If I fall along the way  
Pick me up and dust me off  
And if I get too tired to make it  
Be my breath so I can walk  
  
If I need some other love  
Give me more than I can stand  
And when my smile gets old and faded  
Wait around I'll smile again  
  
Shouldn't be so complicated  
Just hold me and then  
Just hold me again  
  
Can you help me I'm bent  
I'm so scared that I'll never   
Get put back together  
You're breaking me in  
And this is how we will end  
With you and me bent  
  
Her breath caught in her throat and she tugged away from him, needing to *not* be touching him, *not* be looking into his eyes. They began a different dance this time as he silently he fought to keep her in his arms. She wrenched away from him, turning her back, desperate to get away - from the music, from him - and he moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her from behind, folding her close against him, his face beside hers, his chin tucked onto her shoulder, surrounding her with himself. She didn't have the will to fight again, and stood quietly in his arms. A single tear slid down her cheek as the music washed over her.  
  
If I couldn't sleep could you sleep  
Could you paint me better off  
Could you sympathize with my needs  
I know you think I need a lot  
  
I started out clean but I'm jaded  
Just phoning it in  
Just breaking the skin  
  
Start bending me  
It's never enough  
I feel all your pieces  
Start bending me  
Keep bending me   
Until I'm completely broken in  
  
Shouldn't be so complicated  
Just touch me and then  
Just touch me again  
  
Can you help me I'm bent  
I'm so scared that I'll never   
Get put back together  
You're breaking me in  
And this is how we will end  
With you and me bent  
  
When her first sob broke, he turned her, one lean hand sliding up to press her head against his chest. Strong arms wrapped tightly around her body as she wept. 


End file.
